


A Meeting of Giants

by GoblinBard



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Pre-Founding, awkward friendships, basically a different take on Chapter 623, different dads than in the manga for reasons, political foresight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:46:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinBard/pseuds/GoblinBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after a Senju-Uchiha treaty promises a respite from warfare, Tobirama decides that it's time to address the problem that is his older brother's and Uchiha Madara's maybe-almost-friendship. It doesn't go as he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Meeting of Giants

 

The second time that Senju Tobirama met Uchiha Izuna was six months after the first, but infinitely more awkward on account of the fact that they were no longer almost-enemies glaring at each other across an invisible line, but had been regelated to the position of peace-offerings in the dance of diplomacy that was Hashirama’s and Madara’s burgeoning relationship, to be pushed forward with an explanatory mutter of ‘My little brother, say hi, now run away and play, we’ve got important stuff to talk about’.

Given that over the last three months he’d been observing Hashirama and Madara with the utmost attentiveness, and their conversational range had usually stretched from awkward silences to violent arguments about things as unconsequential as how far a certain grasshopper might be expected to jump, Tobirama doubted that last statement. Still, it was a definite part of his Uchiha policy to not contradict his older brother in front of them, so he obediently shuffled off down the river’s edge, side-eyeing Izuna, who looked back at him with wide, innocent eyes.

As soon as they were out of sight of their elder siblings, however, he spun, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and glared at Izuna with crossed arms. He’d kept quiet about this whole Madara thing for the last three months, hadn’t even told his father, because their clans weren’t _actually_ fighting right now, but enough was enough. It was starting to seem like Hashirama was really trusting the older Uchiha. “What’s your older brother want with Hashirama?”

Izuna gave up on the innocent stare and folded his arms as well, suspicion making his small face sharp and pinched. “What’s your older brother want with Madara?”

They glared at each other for a long moment before Tobirama unbent enough to suggest, “If we head back now and keep to the trees, they probably won’t see us -”

Izuna pouted, which Tobirama suspected was his idea of a withering look, and said loftily, “You don’t have to _tell_ me. I sneak up on Madara all the time.”

“What a horrible surprise it must be for him,” Tobirama muttered, and Izuna stuck his tongue out at him.

They were children of shinobi, for all their vanity, and managed to get up into the branches of an old hickory, and from there to an oak not far from the place where their brothers were talking, with only one silent shoving match, which Tobirama won by virtue of being an inch taller. Izuna glowered at him and bared his teeth, but he let him go first and then swarmed out onto the oak’s sturdy branch after him.

They clung there as silently as they could, while a friendly wind brought most of Hashirama’s and Madara’s conversation to their ears.

They were not impressed by what they heard.

“Skipping _stones_?” Izuna hissed like a small, aggrieved kitten. He seemed to feel that it was below his brother’s dignity to be caught discussing something so juvenile. “That can’t be it. It’s got to be some kind of code.”

Tobirama shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said doubtfully, and then, “Hashirama’s great,” feeling obscurely that he had to bolster his brother’s failing reputation. “He just – likes playing games sometimes.”

“Baby games,” Izuna said scornfully.

“You’re one to talk,” Tobirama whispered back, reaching up to get a better grip on a projecting branch. “You’re still a baby.”

“I am not!” Izuna clenched his fists against the bark of the oak, forgetting to lower his voice.

“See,” Tobirama said peaceably, “only a baby would get upset like that. Some ninja you are.”

Izuna seemed to retreat into himself, a small, dark ball of fury. Then he relaxed, shrugged.

Tobirama looked back down at the river below.

A sudden jolt, and his grip on the tree branch was failing as a small, determined weight flung itself onto his back and a pair of tiny arms locked around his neck. Tobirama tried to twist around, and with the ominous crack of a couple dead twigs they were falling.

The branch had dipped close enough to the ground that Tobirama gained only a few bruises from the grassy riverbank, but he was more concerned with the fact that Izuna was _still_ on his back, and really, where did such a little kid get such a powerful grip?

It took a minute of rolling and banging into trees before Izuna let go, and even then he only did it in order to drop to his knees and drive his head into Tobirama’s stomach. Tobirama, who was beginning to think that he might have committed the unforgivable sin of underestimating his enemy, retaliated by pulling Izuna’s long black hair unmercifully, and had just managed to land a few punches –

“Tobirama!” Hashirama sounded shocked as he pulled him away from Izuna; across from them, Madara was doing the same with Izuna, who was breathing hard, his face red with anger and exertion. “What are you doing?”

Tobirama wished very much that he could answer _winning_ , but the truth was that Izuna wasn’t too bad at punching himself, so he contented himself with saying “Nothing,” darkly, and glaring at his erstwhile opponent.

And _of course_ Izuna promptly screwed up his face and began to cry, sniffling and clinging to Madara’s tunic as if he were half his meagre age. “He – he hit me! I only w – wanted to play!”

Madara patted him on the back and glared at Hashirama. “Can’t you control that kid?”

* * *

 

Several recriminations and one heartfelt apology (on Hashirama’s part) later, Tobirama found himself dragged back by an irritated older sibling – honestly, you’d have thought he and Izuna had interrupted something really important – all the way back to the Senju’s latest camp, and their father’s tent, where he was deposited on the dusty ground.

“Should I ask,” Senju Hiroki asked mildly from his seat outside the tent flap, “why my children are in such disarray?”

Tobirama opened his mouth, but Hashirama beat him to it with a hasty, “Just training, Tou-san.”

Tobirama glared at him. “Tell him _where_ we were training.”

Hashirama’s face was very red now, he hated lying to their father and Tobirama suspected that it was just another example of pernicious Uchiha influence that he was doing it now. “By the river. By ourselves.”

“Is there something I need to know, Tobirama?” Hiroki asked, putting aside the cloak he was mending.

Tobirama hesitated, then blurted out, “He’s been meeting with an Uchiha!”

Hashirama’s eyes flew to their father’s face.

Hiroki raised his eyebrows. “Has he?”

Indignation getting the better of his unwillingness to tell his older brother’s secret, Tobirama nodded. “Uchiha Madara. That’s their leader’s son!” he added, feeling somehow that his father hadn’t quite realized the enormity of the situation.

“I am aware of that, Tobirama,” Hiroki said mildly.

“I haven’t told him anything, Tou-san!” Hashirama protested. “Th – there’s the treaty and we’re not fighting right now. We were just – playing. I – I didn’t even know he was an Uchiha for _sure,_ I never asked his surname -”

“Like you couldn’t have recognized him,” Tobirama muttered. “All Uchiha look the same.”

“And did Uchiha Madara give Tobirama that black eye?” Hiroki asked, and Tobirama looked down at the ground, cheeks burning as Hashirama answered hastily.

“No, Madara wouldn’t do that. Tobirama got in a fight with Madara’s little brother.” He looked over at his younger brother, frowned. “I don’t know why…”

Tobirama cautiously glanced up to gauge their father’s reaction, and saw that his lips were twitching slightly. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that he was holding back a laugh.

But Hiroki’s face appeared grave enough next moment as he said, “The riverbank seems to have been rather crowded with Uchiha this afternoon.”

“There weren’t any others, I’m sure!” Hashirama protested, and Hiroki reached out, patting him on the shoulder.

“All right, Hashirama. I trust you to have made sure of that. But still –“ he paused.

“Yes?” Tobirama demanded.

“If you had plans to meet this Madara again tomorrow –“ Hiroki waited for Hashirama’s anxious nod, “ – I think that your brother and myself will accompany you this time.” His lips twitched again as he glanced at Tobirama. “I have a few things to say to your friend.”

“Yes, Tou-san,” Hashirama murmured.

* * *

“You run along, Hashirama, we’ll stay back for a few minutes and then come down to meet you, all right?”

“Yes, Tou-san.”

It was a sad sight, Tobirama reflected sourly, and an example of what hanging out with Uchiha did to your intelligence, to watch his older brother and Uchiha Madara frantically signalling to each other from the moment they came within eyeshot, under the obvious impression that they were being subtle and surrepstitious. He glanced up to see if Hiroki was properly horrified at the way his son’s skills had degenerated, but Hiroki was having difficulty keeping his face straight again.

Tobirama scuffed his sandles against the ground, quietly fuming. Clearly, he was the only one who cared about the Clan’s reputation any longer. He peered back down at the riverbank, where Hashirama and Madara seemed to be pinning their hopes on the fact that if they yelled their excuses for having to leave _right now_ loudly enough, they’d sound more believable.

“Well,” Madara bawled at the top of his lungs, casually sidling in the direction of the woods on the other side of the river, “if you’re _sure_ you don’t have time to play – uh, train! – today!”

“Sorry, but I forgot something really important,” Hashirama yelled back, backing up as well, “um – like – a _family_ matter.”

Madara’s eyes widened and he practically jumped up and down as he yelled back, “Me too!”

Hashirama looked confused, and forgot to shout. “Really?”

Madara nodded up and down. “We should leave now – er - running,” he said eloquently.

“That’s enough, Madara.” A deep voice rolled through the air, and Madara’s shoulders slumped in resignation as he looked behind him at the man who had stepped out of the grove of trees.

Tobirama had seen Uchiha Soichi when his father had taken himself and Hashirama along to observe the last treaty, around six months ago, but since then he’d forgotten just how _big_ Madara’s father was. It was like one of the oak trees had uprooted itself and was walking down the slope towards the river, and the two boys standing there. “Tou-san?” he whispered anxiously.

He spotted a little shadow trotting along at Soichi’s heels, and with a flash of surprise and anger realized it was Izuna. Of course, he must have told on Madara the same way Tobirama had on Hashirama – though it galled him to think of any similarity between them.

“We’d better go down as well,” Hiroki said. Tobirama took some comfort from the fact that his father wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t seem worried, either – just very cautious. “Leave the talking to me, Tobirama, and whatever you do _don’t_ pick another fight with Izuna until we’ve finished.”

“Okay,” Tobirama mumbled, glaring at the younger boy. He wanted to point out that he hadn’t started the last one, but he bit his tongue and followed his father down the steep, pitted slope until they reached Hashirama, who was staring up at the huge Uchiha with wide eyes.

“Uchiha-sama,” Hiroki said politely, inclining his head.

Soichi nodded back. Now that they were standing on almost level ground, the difference in their heights was clear; Hiroki’s head barely came up to the larger man’s shoulder. “Senju-san,” he said with equal courtesy.

Both Hashirama and Madara looked as if they would very much like the earth to open up and swallow them.

Tobirama spotted Izuna glaring at him and stared stonily back, noting with satisfaction that at least he’d given him a black eye as well.

“We weren’t doing anything wrong,” Madara said after a long moment, mouth curving down in something dangerously close to Izuna’s pout. His father glanced down at him and he hurried to add, “I didn’t even know he was a Senju, really! I – I never asked him for his surname, or even if he had one!”

And that was when Tobirama saw the same signs of suppressed mirth on Uchiha Soichi’s face that he had seen on his father’s, and concluded that there was simply no hope for it, all the adults in their lives had gone stark raving insane. His gaze collided with Izuna’s again, but this time he got no satisfaction whatever from seeing his own confusion mirrored in the younger Uchiha’s face.

“It would seem, Uchiha-dono,” Hiroki was saying calmly, his hand on Hashirama’s shoulder, “that my son took the same precaution that yours did.”

“Mm,” Soichi said noncommittally, folding his arms. “A shame that they did not recognize each other from the meeting six months ago, is it not?”

Hiroki tilted his head up to better meet Soichi’s gaze. “And yet it seems that little harm has come of it.”

“As of yet,” Soichi agreed cautiously, and the two men shared a long, silent look.

“Please!” Hashirama’s face was very red again, but he was standing almost on tiptoe in his anxiety to be heard. “It was really my fault, so there’s no need to get Madara in trouble – I – I was the one who suggested that we come play –“

 _“Train,_ ” muttered Madara in a strangled voice.

Soichi removed his gaze from Hiroki and glanced down at Hashirama, surprise and then something like approval in his eyes. “Rest your mind on that matter. It is a difficult thing for a shinobi to make a friend in this world of ours. I will not punish my son for reaching out – I have already had words with him,” and Madara hung his head, “concerning the fact that I had to learn of this from his younger brother.”

Izuna, aware that all eyes had temporarily turned to him, shrank uneasily into Soichi’s shadow.

“So – we can keep seeing each other?” Madara muttered hopefully, daring to peek upwards.

Another long look passed between the two adults, and then Hiroki nodded to the Uchiha boy. “You may,” he said. “As long as you are careful.”

Madara and Hashirama’s eyes darted to meet each other. Twin incredulous grins broke out on their faces.

Soichi bent low to eye Hashirama; a mountain bending to observe a sapling. “I would like to thank,” he said with gravity, “the boy who has been responsible for improving my son’s throwing arm.”

“You noticed?” Madara exclaimed, looking caught between excitement at the acknowledgement and chagrin that he’d needed to improve at all.

“But –“ Tobirama sputtered, and froze as Soichi looked at him, as he heard his own father sigh softly in exasperation. He should have stayed quiet, like Izuna, he thought, and then forged ahead regardless. “But won’t anybody _mind_?”

“Masaaki-sama would be rather put out if he learned of it,” Hiroki said thoughtfully. “He does not always approve of my unorthodox decisions. But he will not learn of it from me – or from you, Tobirama. Do you understand?”

Tobirama shut his mouth with a snap and nodded.

Hiroki looked up at Soichi, raising an eyebrow. “I cannot, of course, answer for the Uchiha.”

Soichi shrugged his large shoulders. “If the more backwards-looking of my Clan learn of it, they will complain, and talk loudly of the end of our supremecy.” There was, Tobirama thought, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “What of it? They may talk all they please, and they dare not do more – now. As for my wife and myself, I trust that my son will uphold our honor. Good things may come of this, in the end.”

Madara puffed up his chest, and Hashirama asked cautiously, “What good things do you mean?”

“We look to the future,” Soichi answered, but his eyes were on Hiroki. Tobirama had the uneasy feeling that they were speaking over their children’s heads in more way than one.

“And hope that it will be a better place than today,” Hiroki agreed quietly. “A wise man always plans for the future.”

Soichi smiled, openly this time. “It is always a pleasure to find another whose thoughts match your own, Senju-san.”

Tobirama’s eyes found Izuna’s across the little space that separated them. The small Uchiha boy looked as thoughtful as he felt; he suspected that they would both have much to think of after that day.

“So – can we go play?” Madara asked.

“Don’t you mean ‘train’?” Hashirama murmured innocently.

Madara glared at him, and barely waited for his father’s assenting nod before streaking away, shouting, “C’mon, Hashirama, I’ll race you!”

Hashirama pelted after him.

There was a short silence, and then Hiroki put a hand on Tobirama’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go play with Izuna for a little while, Tobirama? I think that Soichi-sama and I will need to talk for a little while longer.”

Tobirama shuffled off unwillingly next to the younger Uchiha, looking over his shoulder as often as he could. Next to him, Izuna was doing the same. “D’you think, if we found another tree –“ Tobirama began.

“No,” Izuna said morosely. “My father’s good at noticing things. S’why he’s in charge of the Clan.”

Far-off, they could hear Madara and Hashirama shouting happily about something. They exchanged glances, and then quickly looked away.

“ _Play,_ ” Izuna said with great disgust. “What are we supposed to do, skip stones?”

“Yeah,” Tobirama agreed.

There was a short silence.

“…Let’s circle around and find that tree,” Izuna said finally. “Maybe they’ll be dis – distracted -” he stumbled over the word and covered it up by scowling, “ – and won’t notice. Only I get to go first this time.”

Tobirama hesitated, and then considered that perhaps there was something to be learned from the idea of compromise that had been presented to them that day. Even if it was with Uchiha.

“Okay,” he said.

 


End file.
